


Unexpected Stories

by IcyCrystal



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, BAMF Bilbo, BAMF Thorin, Disturbing, Emotions, F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Ghosts, Horror, M/M, Modern, Modern AU, Multi, One Shot, Other, Random - Freeform, Sad, Scary, Will add tags along the way, cry, sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:39:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyCrystal/pseuds/IcyCrystal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of One Shots too small to be posted on their own or unrelated to a story.</p><p>This weeks theme: Horror or Angst.</p><p>Constant updates (as of now), I will try to post everyday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's In Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo/Thorin  
> Horror.  
> "You hold my heart in your hands, you know, so don't break it," he whispered.  
> Bilbo never realized how literal Thorin would take that statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing gory, don't worry. I cut off the graphic parts.

It had been a mere month since Bilbo broke off his relationship with Thorin, and already, he felt better, much more free. It was Thorin that restrained him, with his controlling and dominating ways that had no space for Bilbo.

The Thorin he had met was not the same Thorin he was in a relationship with. He remembered when he had first met Thorin.

_"You hold my heart in your hands you know, so please don't break it," he had whispered, and Bilbo had smiled back at him, foolishly believing that it would work out._

He remembered the way Thorin smiled down at Frodo and named him his nephew. The way he ruffled the child's hair and chuckled.

_"You're heart and my heart are one, nephew, for we both love your uncle dearly."_

How foolish he had been.

And so, the connection was cut completely before it crumbled slowly, which would have ended in much more pain.

* * *

 

He was at the bar, sipping his third shot and already, his vision was becoming a little blurry. He got up from the love seat to order his fourth shot, when he felt a spike of pain in his temples and stumbled. He would have fallen face flat onto the floor if it weren't for an arm catching him. "Do you need any help, sir?" It was a familiar voice that asked in a deep baritone, but Bilbo wasn't exactly sober so he did not realize it.

Bilbo nodded absently, and collapsed, falling unconscious into the strangers arms. Gently, the stranger carried him into his van and put him into the passenger seat. Kissing him gently on the lips and biting it hard enough to bleed, the stranger whispered to the unconcious body, "You will be mine." A laugh. Silence.

 

 

* * *

 

Bilbo opened his eyes. He saw the richest black he had ever seen. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and looked around. Nothing.

Then suddenly, from the corner of one of the rooms, a voice spoke, a familiar one, but it sounded mad and and desperate, and it rasped more than usual as if the throat was hoarse and thirsty.

"Bilb-o..... Where are you?"

Bilbo's heart began pounding rapidly and he scrambled up and covered his eyes.

"I will fin-d you... I always d-o..."

Then, a laugh. Silence.

And suddenly, he knew who it was. He ran. Once again, he slipped, and beneath him, he felt the dampness and wetness of a substance beneath him. It wasn't water.

He gasped and scrambled back and when he turned, he met a set of wide, dim blue eyes. And they weren't Thorin's. He screamed. And out of the darkness, a figure sprung out from the shadows and captured Bilbo's lips in a kiss. When Bilbo tried to escape, the teeth bit down on his lip so he could not. He cried out in pain. Strong, forceful arms encircled his neck and he was forced to look up at the strangers eyes. It was blue, clear sky blue like Thorin's. And that was all he saw before he was shoved face first into the ground. He felt hands pulling his trousers down and ripping his shirt apart. He cried out.

"No! No! Get off me! Get off me you monster," he cried out to the shadow. Then, suddenly, it stopped. It turned him to lay on his back and he looked into the blue eyes that glowed eerily in the midst of the darkness and it looked back at him.

"That was all I ever was to you, wasn't it?"

* * *

 

Days later, they found the body of Bilbo Baggins and his nephew, Frodo Baggins with a missing vital organ. It was found soon enough.

There was a piece of paper sewed onto the lips of Bilbo.

It was written in red.

_"You hold my heart in your hands."_

Bilbo's face was stuck forever in a mask if horror, and in his hand, he held a heart.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hope you guys like it! I will try to post daily :) so bare with me.


	2. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo/Thorin  
> Really crappy Angst.  
> In a world where getting shot in the heart means losing your emotions, Bilbo jumps in front of Thorin and the bullet and it ends up shooting him, in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, this story is really crappy, I'm crying tears of shame :'( but I just wanted to update this for you guys.

A gun shot was heard.

And it was as if time seemed to slow down. The bullet was spiraling through the air, ready to hit Thorin Oakenshield at the back of the head.

Bilbo screamed. Eyes wide and terrified for the man, he leapt forward and tackled Thorin Oakenshield down. But it was too late.

Boom.  
The sound of a bullet sinking into flesh echoed.

And Bilbo knew no more.

*****

The next time Bilbo woke up was in the hospital. He blinked blearily at the bright lights above him and shut his eyes tight, and tried to recall what happened. Images of the bullet flying through the air and the unsuspecting back of Thorin flashed through his mind.

He should have felt afraid, or angry, or something.

But he felt nothing.

Blinking, he sat up, and grunted at the spike of pain he felt near in his breast. He looked down and saw it. A bandage wrapped around his upper torso and breasts, coiling around until it was uncomfortable below his armpits. He blinked again.

He felt nothing.

"Bilbo," a sleepy voice called from the right side of his bed. Turning his head and blinking, Bilbo found an unharmed Thorin Oakenshield staring at him. Then, a smile spread through Thorin's face.

"Bilbo! Bilbo, thank God your awake, I thought you were dead," he exclaimed, his hands coming to grip Bilbo's own.  
Bilbo stared at him. Thorin smiled and squeezed Bilbo's fingers. Bilbo did not return the gesture. Thorin’s smile slowly turned into a frown.

"Bilbo," the man asked, worriedly. "Are you alright?"  
Bilbo ignored the question. "Do you," he said slowly, voice flat and emotionless, "know where it hit me Thorin?" He turned to the blue eyed man and looked him right in the eye. Normally he would shrink away from the eye contact or squirm, but not this time.

"I don't know what you mean," Thorin said after a while. "The doctors wouldn't tell me where it hit you, but-"

"It hit me in the heart," Bilbo interrupted. Yanking his hands from Thorin's he pointed to the bandage underneath his hospital attire and said flatly, "I was hit in the heart, Thorin."

The man stilled. His blue eyes grew wide with disbelief and his mouth parted in shock. His hands on the bed began shaking and tears began to fill his eyes. Thorin never cried. Bilbo should have felt sympathetic, but again, he felt nothing.  
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no, no, no- this can't be happening, Bilbo, you're lying--"

"Oh, but it is happening Thorin," he said, emotionless. "From here on, I'm broken."  
And Thorin wept into the bed sheets through the night, his shoulders shaking and his sobs quiet, without a hand to comfort him. Bilbo watched the entire night, his face, impassive, and his eyes, stone cold.

*****

The next day, Bilbo was released, and Thorin drove him home with red eyes and shaking hands. Not a word was said between them.

And when they had finally reached Bag End, Thorin handed Bilbo his bag and Bilbo walked away. He could see his home before him, the home he had grown up with, made so many happy memories, yet he felt no joy or happiness at seeing it. Nothing.  
Then, suddenly, Thorin called out to him. Bilbo turned and looked at the man.

"Bilbo... I love you."

It was a sentiment they regularly shared, always returned. But Bilbo was not a liar. So he turned away and shut Bag End's door behind him.

That night, as Thorin wept for his loss, Bilbo sat and stared motionless and stared at the window behind him, willing himself to feel, but still, nothing. So he sat awake that night and watched as the rain fell from the sky, in an action so human, it looked as if it were mocking him.

*****

Years later, Bilbo moves into Thorin's house and takes up a ward, Frodo. His parents had died in a cruise and the only guardian available to take Frodo in was Bilbo. Bilbo did not want to take Frodo in, for he knew it wasn't fair for the boy to grow up in a loveless house, not a home, but he had taken him in anyway.

Bilbo always tried to smile for Frodo, but he knew Frodo did not buy it. He never tried to smile for Thorin, for Thorin knew and understood that it was a lie, and he could never be fixed.

He only kept Thorin close because he was familiar. He knew Thorin loved him, and he knew that Thorin knew he did not love him back, and that it was unfair for him to hurt the man this way. But it was his only escape. The familiarity was the closest thing he could come to, to feel.

Sometimes, he'd walk into his and Thorin's bedroom on a stormy night and see a figure, honey curls and petite, just like him, staring right back at him, and sometimes, the lightning would flash and envelop the figure in an eerie light. Then it would dark again and the figure would still stare right back, but with its eyes full of tears, his brows drawn in rage and his hands clenched into fists. Then blink, and the figure is no longer staring at him, but is curled up in a ball on the floor, hands covering eyes and sobs louder than the thunders outside. Then, it would look back up at him and ask with a small, heartbreaking voice,  
"Why?"

And then, it was gone. And Bilbo would close his eyes and bite his lip, and walk away.

It was a sick way of living, keeping people around for his own benefit, hurting them in the process. It was sick, and Bilbo knew it was sick, but he didn't care.  
He didn't care. He didn't feel. Maybe once he'd loved Thorin, maybe in another world he had loved Frodo, but it was not this one. 

He was broken.  
*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's okay


End file.
